About the Best That I Can Do
by OutToGarden
Summary: Alfred F. Jones: total dork that spills his soda all over Arthur's clothing. Arthur Kirkland: sexy punk completely out of his league. Naturally, Arthur will demand payment. M for PWP and first time


**A/N: I swear one day in the very near future that I will stop writing random PWP and return to The World I Once Knew. I've just had end-of-the-year stress lately, so writing one-shots is what I can manage. Until then, enjoy some punk!Arthur devirginizing (totally a word) dear Alfred.**

**Also, I apologize for the use of a cliche like a snowstorm keeping them in, but I wanted to write something low on planning and high on sexy. Hope I nailed it ;)**

* * *

There was one thing that Alfred F. Jones was absolutely certain of: Arthur Kirkland _really _needed to stop wearing skinny jeans. It wasn't so bad when the jeans had been practically ripped to shreds with no semblance of attractiveness built into them, but now that Arthur's style had evolved into a more tasteful form of punk, the skinny jeans were tight little things that clung in exactly the right way and left little to the imagination. In short, they were driving Alfred insane with desire for the high school senior. Alfred, merely a rather dorky sophomore, was told time and time again by his friends that he had so low of a chance that it dropped in the negative range, but he was nothing if not persistent.

Which led to his current predicament.

It wasn't his fault, really. He didn't even plan it to be like this, even though nobody would ever believe that. One moment, he was speed walking down the hallway to avoid being late to his last class of the day, sipping on the Coke he had gotten at lunch, and the next he was colliding heavily with a lithe body and spilling said beverage all over said body.

"Oh god I'm so sorry!" he apologized quickly, thankful that he hadn't also knocked the person onto the floor. His brief relief dissipated, however, when the figure looked up from the damage to their clothing with a livid expression.

"What the hell is your problem?" Arthur yelled, plucking unhappily at his soaked garments.

"I'm sorry!" he repeated, more frantic this time. "It was an accident!"

"Ugh, accident or not you've gotten a repulsive, sticky liquid all over my clothes! I'll expect you to pay for replacements!" Arthur continued to rage.

"Um…okay," Alfred said pitifully, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture. _Way to go, Alfred. Your first interaction with the long time object of your romantic interest and you manage to spill soda all over him. Brilliant. _"Uh, just tell me how much the clothing costs and I'll get the money to you as soon as I can," he promised.

Arthur continued to glare. "Fat lot of good that'll do me right now."

Alfred shifted anxiously on his feet, unsure of what the older boy was expecting him to do.

"Look, I really am-"

"Tell you what," Arthur interrupted. "Come back with me to my house. I was on my way out anyway. Then I can change, give _you _my ruined clothes, and _you _can find the proper replacements on your own time."

"Uh, I'd be happy to buy you replacements, but I have a class right now and…" he trailed off helplessly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Bollocks to your class. You should've thought of that before going around running into people."

"I told you, it was an acci-"

"Don't care. Come with me."

Alfred could do nothing but follow after Arthur while throwing timid glances at the now closed classroom doors around him, hoping against all odds that he wouldn't wind up getting in trouble from skipping out on his class. However, he couldn't deny that Arthur was extremely intimidating when angered, so not doing as he said was out of the question.

As they reached the student parking lot, Arthur shivered visibly.

"Fuck, it's cold out," he complained. It was already nearly freezing without the drenched clothing he wore, but now it was just that much worse. As soon as he reached his truck, he hopped in and cranked up the heat. Alfred sat gingerly in the passenger side, unwilling to touch anything for fear of incurring the older boy's wrath for a second time in less than ten minutes.

When they reached Arthur's house, suspicious looking storm clouds had begun forming in the sky, but neither of them paid it much mind. The early morning weather forecast had mentioned a possibility of snow later on in the evening, but it wasn't supposed to be severe.

"Mum, I'm home!" Arthur shouted upon walking through the front door. There was a bustling sound coming from the direction of the kitchen, alerting Arthur to the woman's whereabouts. He led Alfred through the front foyer, depositing him on a barstool so he could lean down and kiss his stout mother on the cheek.

"What in the world happened to your clothing, honey?" his mother fussed.

Arthur motioned to Alfred with a nod of his head. "This kid spilled soda all over me. I brought him here so I could change and give him the clothes to replace." Alfred sat nervously on the stool, uncomfortable with the surveillance of the woman.

"And what's your name?" Arthur's mother asked kindly. Arthur pinked slightly in response to the question, likely having just realized that he had never asked.

"It's Alfred, ma'am," Alfred responded politely. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur sneak out of the kitchen, presumably to go to his room and put on clean clothing.

"Oh, well Alfred, it's nice to meet you," Mrs. Kirkland said brightly. "It's always lovely to have one of Arthur's friends over."

Alfred blushed at the terminology the woman had used, too embarrassed about the situation to bother correcting her.

"Would you like a biscuit?" she suddenly offered, holding out a charcoaled mass to the student. Alfred quickly recoiled from the lump, politely stating that he had just eaten lunch and that he was quite fine.

"Alright. Well why don't you go on upstairs to find Arthur then? His room is the first on the right," Mrs. Kirkland instructed with a smile, indicating the direction with a spatula.

Alfred nodded, slipping off the stool and slinking away in the direction of the stairs. He felt awkward walking around by himself in the house, but he supposed it was okay since Arthur's mother had told him to do it. When he rounded the corner on the second floor in pursuit of the older boy's room, Alfred suddenly skidded to a halt and felt his mouth go completely dry. There, standing in the middle of his room, stood Arthur, clearly not finished with changing. The punk was perusing a closet full of clothes, not currently wearing a single scrap of fabric and standing in the perfect spot for his bare body to be on display to anyone walking by the door. Perhaps, Alfred considered as Arthur turned and threw a smirk over his shoulder at the ogling sophomore, this was exactly what he had intended. Alfred felt his pants tighten considerably as his eyes roamed on their own accord over the narrow plains of Arthur's back and down to the smooth, firm globes of his ass.

Before he had time to completely lose control, the flawless skin was being covered in a tight band T-shirt and even tighter, new skinny jeans and _dear lord he wasn't going to wear any underwear_. The next thing he knew, there was a rustling sound as Arthur shoved the soiled articles into a plastic bag that was soon getting shoved into Alfred's face, breaking him out of his stupor. Arthur made no comment on Alfred's peeping, instead turning on his heels to tread down the stairs and return to the kitchen.

Arthur insisted that Alfred leave immediately for the mall so that he could bring him the replacements clothing as soon as possible, but Mrs. Kirkland, being the kind woman she was, chastised her son for his rude behaviour and graciously requested that Alfred at least stay for dinner. Seeing himself with no other alternative, he acquiesced. He was rather intimidated when several unfamiliar men came through the door over the course of the next couple of hours, but relaxed when they were introduced as Arthur's father and many older brothers. After the meal, Alfred had immediately retreated to the foyer to take his leave, but was met only with the sound of Arthur swearing loudly.

"Fucking shit!"

Alfred looked to where Arthur was gazing in dismay and to his surprise found that the snow had begun much earlier and heavier than predicted. Already in the couple hours they had taken to prepare and eat dinner, nearly a foot had fallen.

"Oh, would you look at that," Mrs. Kirkland voiced from behind him. "I guess you won't be going anywhere for tonight!"

And that is what brings us to Alfred's current situation. Apparently, Arthur had so many damned family members that all of the beds and couches were occupied and none of the chairs happened to be comfortable enough for a decent night's sleep, so Mrs. Kirkland had insisted that Alfred share a room with Arthur since she was still under the impression that they had developed a type of friendship. Alfred didn't know whether to consider himself the luckiest bastard alive or the most damned man on earth, but from the way Arthur was glaring daggers at him from where he was perched on his bed clad in warm pajamas, he was going to go with the latter. Alfred himself stood in the middle of Arthur's room awkwardly, looking around wondering just where exactly he was supposed to sleep.

"You're lucky my mother is such a lovely person," Arthur commented. "I would've had you out on the streets."

"Uhm…thanks?" Alfred questioned. Arthur rolled his eyes mockingly and gestured to the floor.

"We don't even have any spare blankets," he said, rubbing the back of his head in an irritated fashion, "and normally I would make you sleep on the floor, but my mum would literally have a cow if she walked in here in the morning to find you frozen to death."

"Oh," Alfred sounded, unsure as to where the elder was going with this. Arthur seemed to grit his teeth before clarifying.

"So you'll have to share the bed with me."

"_Oh!_" Alfred repeated, eyes widening in their sockets.

"Yeah," Arthur rolled his eyes, "but don't make a big deal out of it. I'm only doing this for my mum."

"O-of course," Alfred said nervously, wringing his hands and approaching the bed slowly, trying to ignore the way those viridian eyes watched his every move.

Arthur slid over to the far side of the bed to make room and inserted himself beneath the warm covers, facing away from the sophomore.

Alfred crawled carefully into the bed behind Arthur, resigning himself to sleeping in his day clothes and trying his hardest to not touch the other boy despite the small size of the twin bed. He had been surprised when the punk had changed into—dare he say it—_adorable _pajamas, but he was thankful for it now that they were in such close proximity. He didn't think he would have been able to handle it if Arthur had slept in those skinny jeans. As it was, he was having trouble keeping his mind off the fact that _Arthur Kirkland _was right next to him _in bed_ and he would barely have to shift in order to brush against him.

He did well for the first several minutes, when Arthur was also remaining still in an attempt to fall asleep. However, soon the punk starting shifting subtly. Alfred ignored it at first, training his mind on other things such as roadkill, grapefruit, and worms to detract from the attractive being lying right next to him. But then Arthur adjusted himself in exactly the wrong (or _right_) way and managed to brush a part of his body directly across Alfred's crotch. Alfred knew that the other boy hadn't even realized what had happened from the lack of response, but he knew instantly that he wouldn't be able to ignore the slight stimulation. After a couple more occurrences of this event over the next few minutes, Alfred was battling with an all-out erection, gripping the sheets beneath him tightly to keep him from partaking in further action.

God, it was unbearable. Alfred had never been one to deny himself pleasure when he got hard, so he had little practice in willing it away. _Think, Alfred, think_! Just then, Arthur accidentally brushed against him once more and Alfred stifled a groan by biting his lips so hard that he tasted a trace amount of blood. He needed to touch himself, there was no way around it. Maybe if he indulged in his problem for even just a moment then it would quell his need long enough to roll over with his back to Arthur and ignore the whole thing? With that optimistic thought on his mind, Alfred carefully allowed his hand to trail over a hip and down his pelvis to cup the base of his cock, shivering as he went. He pumped himself slowly up and down and then once more for good measure before realizing that he had made a terrible mistake.

Instead of taking away from some of the heat in his groin, it only made his arousal needier. The plan had backfired completely and now he felt as if he would go mad with lust if he didn't take care of himself soon. He hated Arthur in that moment for having this effect on him. Not pausing to think about the consequences, Alfred rolled over onto his other side and began stroking himself in earnest, muffling his sounds as best as he could. He knew it was rash and possibly suicidal to be masturbating in the bed of the infamous Arthur Kirkland with said infamous student lying right beside him (hopefully) sleeping, but he couldn't work up the energy to give a damn. All he could work himself up to do in that moment was to keep on moving a fist around his dick hard and fast, hoping for a quick and easy release into one of the socks he had kept on to ward off the cold.

"Mmm….ah!" he gasped quietly, feeling himself getting close to orgasm, so close—

With lightning speed, a hand shot out and gripped his wrist, effectively halting his motions.

"You couldn't make it to the bathroom?" Arthur asked as he sat up, gazing down at Alfred with a mixture of irritation and interest.

Alfred froze, mouth hanging open in horror and cheeks burning in shame. "I…" he began, but trailed off for lack of anything to say that could possibly explain the situation and keep him from getting kicked out into the snow.

"I knew you wanted me," Arthur smirked. "I saw you watching while I changed." Alfred's face turned an even deeper shade of red and he feebly attempted to stand up to get away, but the hand still clutching his wrist kept him in place.

"Remove your hand, please," Arthur instructed. Alfred thought that he should have been the one saying that, but he didn't question it and shamefully unwrapped his fist from around his cock and allowed Arthur to guide it back onto the bed. He felt the punk release his wrist and made to flee from the scene, never to look the other in the eye again, when he was suddenly held back by the feeling of a smaller, softer hand on his erection replacing his own. He couldn't help but gasp at the touch, staring wide-eyed at the smirking senior next to him. Falling onto his back against the sheets, Alfred gave a stunned moan as Arthur's hand moved along his shaft.

"Does that feel good?" Arthur questioned, but by the gleam in his eye it was easy to see that he already knew the answer.

"G-god yes," Alfred moaned out anyway, too far gone in lust to question why Arthur was helping him instead of punching him in disgust. He arched his back as Arthur curled his fist, uncaring if he seemed overly wanton with his writhing and noises. The way Arthur was rubbing his thumb along the slit in the head could be the cure to world starvation and he would not have given a single damn; the only thing that mattered in that moment was that the other boy continued to touch him. He knew he was in for a quick release, especially considering how close he had been before Arthur had decided to join in.

"Ha-ahhh….oh g-Arthur!" he practically sobbed, and when Arthur unexpectedly leaned down and kissed him hard, Alfred gave one final moan into the warm mouth and thrust his hips erratically, allowing Arthur's hand to skillfully work him through his powerful orgasm.

He lay there for a full minute, his thoughts drifting from disbelief that he had just been jacked off by _Arthur fucking Kirkland _to the intense serenity that can only be felt after sex. Through his heavy breathing, the only thing Alfred was conscious of besides his own inner thoughts was the way Arthur was purring "yes" into his ear over and over like a chant. His eyes flew open when this registered in his mind, going directly to the hand that was working over Arthur's own erection. Alfred's flush had gone down in the time he had spent regaining his breath, but he knew that his face one again flared up at the sight of Arthur pleasuring himself and he became half-hard almost instantly. This fact did not go unnoticed by the other student, despite the way his eyes were half-lidded in pleasure; he had been expecting this. Quickly rolling onto his back, Arthur removed his pants and gazed up at Alfred.

"It's alright," he said, "You can fuck me if you want."

_God yes_, he thought, but couldn't manage the brain-to-mouth communication and settled for nodding his head frantically and peeling his own pants completely off. When his shirt had also joined the pile of clothing on the floor, Alfred cast his unsure and slightly nervous gaze down at the naked boy on the bed. He knew he wanted this, needed this, but this was all so new to him. He had kissed a couple of people chastely before this, but he had certainly never been touched by anyone but himself in the way Arthur had just touched him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Arthur had done this (and probably many times) before.

"You've never been with anyone, I assume?" Arthur asked gently. Alfred slowly shook his head, hoping that Arthur wouldn't change his mind because of this fact. He was grateful when Arthur smiled in understanding and sat up to face him properly.

"Give me your hand," Arthur commanded. Alfred complied and watched, entranced, as the senior guided Alfred's hand down to his cock. "Why don't you try it?"

Alfred gulped, trying to stow away his concerns about being a virgin and replacing them with the desire to make Arthur feel good, too. This part should be no biggie, he had done this to himself plenty of times, but somehow it seemed different when it was Arthur's stiff length he was grasping instead of his own. Gently, slowly, timidly, he slid his palm up the underside of the member and circled delicately around the head, noting in the back of his mind that Arthur was not circumcised. Encouraged by the breathy moan Arthur let out at the contact, Alfred sped up his ministrations. He carried on in this fashion for a few moments before remembering what he had seen dozens of times in videos. Tentatively, he leaned forward slightly so that he was at eye-level with the cock and drew his tongue around the slit.

Alfred felt a hand gripping onto his hair, gently pulling his head up and looked away from the mesmerizing specimen in front of him to the even more pleasing view of Arthur's flushed and aroused expression, noticing that Arthur had, at some point, reached out and grabbed a bottle of lube, seemingly from the nightstand beside the bed.

"That was good, Alfred, really, but now give me your other hand."

Alfred had been expecting this and was now feeling less nervous about what was to come next. His own arousal was twitching with need after listening to the noises Arthur had made and he was becoming desperate for a second release. Extending the hand not occupied with fondling Arthur's balls, he allowed the older boy to pour a generous portion of lube onto his fingers.

"Warm it up a bit. Do you know what to do?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Yeah, I've seen it done before," he responded. Alfred was surprised by the husky tenor his voice had adopted, but thought it a welcome change to his normally slightly squeaky speech. As he reached down and gently inserted one slicked finger into his bedmate, he was once again hit with the fact that this was _Arthur _he was doing this with. How many times had he imagined this very same thing while alone late at night in his room? He moaned just from the knowledge that it was _his _finger penetrating the previously unapproachable and hardcore punk. Never mind the fact that he wasn't the first, it was enough for him that he was doing this at all.

Arthur gave various indicative noises as he was slowly worked open, humming in pleasure when Alfred thrust the fingers in just right or scrunching his nose and grunting when he was feeling uncomfortable. Alfred panted as he labored, wishing he didn't have to spend time on preparation but also unwilling to cause the other boy pain. After a time, Arthur was squirming and trying to thrust back for more than three fingers, wondering why Alfred hadn't put his dick in him yet. When he sensed the sophomore's hesitance, he leaned up to pull Alfred's torso on top of his and aggressively thrust his tongue into the other's mouth. Alfred moaned, caught off guard by the dominant display.

"Alfred," Arthur pleaded as he pulled back, "please hurry up and fuck me."

Alfred's breath hitched at the vulgar wording, finding it arousing enough to pull his fingers out roughly and quickly slather his girth in lube. Worries about being able to please Arthur due to his status as a virgin long gone, Alfred lined himself up with Arthur's entrance and slowly thrust in, intending to pause to allow Arthur time to accommodate for the intrusion, but he had underestimated the other's need and found himself being firmly grasped by a pair of hands from behind as Arthur forced Alfred deep into his body.

"Oh Alfred _yes_," the smaller boy moaned at the feeling of being filled by a handsomely sized cock. Alfred felt his eyes roll back into his head as he was overloaded with Arthur. The sensation of the senior around him was incredible; he never thought he could get so much pleasure at once. Arthur was _tight _and oh so warm and Alfred wanted to make a home inside of him and live there. He felt a pang when he realized that this wasn't just fucking to him. Sure it was also his first time, but more than that, he had actual feelings for the punk and it hurt to think that all he was to Arthur was a quick shag.

Deciding to ponder his emotions at a better time, Alfred abruptly pulled out a few inches before using the muscles in his hips and thighs to slam back in, groaning loudly at the delicious sensation. He felt Arthur's arms wrap tightly around his neck and leaned down to kiss him soundly as he set a steady pace in and out, trying to angle himself differently each time so that he could find Arthur's prostate.

"Is…this okay…for you?" Alfred managed to grind out in between thrusts. He desperately hoped he wasn't causing the other any pain and needed reassurance that he was doing this properly.

"Mmm—yes, this is—ah—good," Arthur informed, digging his heels into the small of Alfred's back to drive him deeper. After a few moments, he felt the head of Alfred's dick prod something inside of him. "Ah! There, there, right there!"

Alfred gasped from the pure pleasure of hearing the cries that he was causing and buried his face in Arthur's neck as he began pounding into the same spot in the hopes of drawing more wonderful noises from the senior. He could feel a thick humidity forming between their sweat-slicked bodies and he knew that his glasses would have been completely fogged up if he was wearing them. Kissing and nipping at the skin on Arthur's collar, Alfred could feel his second release approaching quickly and slowed his thrusts a fraction, wanting to savor every possible moment he could while inside of his long-term infatuation.

"Nnnh—Alfred!" Arthur nearly screamed in protest at the slower speed, digging his nails into the shoulders he was clutching in an attempt to bring about the rough pounding he so enjoyed. When Alfred heard Arthur shouting his name, he couldn't hold back anymore and gripped the elder's hips harshly to bring them up with a loud _smack! _to meet with his thrust and found himself spilling over the edge in an orgasm so intense that he was momentarily blinded to all things except the feel of Arthur under him and around him.

When he came down from his high the world felt fuzzy around him, but he had enough presence of mind to reach down and pump Arthur's cock until he, too, was coming with an arched back and the most beautiful face Alfred had ever witnessed. They passed several moments simply lying there and catching their breath in a post-orgasmic haze. Alfred spent the time trying desperately to memorize every detail he could: the way it felt to go soft inside of a warm, pliant body, the way Arthur's eyelids fluttered as he exhaled, the smell of the two of them mingling together, the feeling of Arthur's breath on his skin. With a final kiss to a soft cheek that he hoped Arthur wouldn't be able to remember, he pulled out carefully and lay on his back next to the other. At some point during their activities, the blankets had become tangled and fallen to the ground, leaving them exposed to the frigid night air. Instead of being uncomfortable, however, it felt nice against his heated skin.

"That was pretty good, Alfred. For your first time, I'm impressed. You've got potential," Arthur commented, lazily wiping the sweat off his forehead with a slow hand. Alfred turned his head to look at his bedmate, mustering up a smile and wondering if he was supposed to thank him. He was thankful for the compliment and thankful for the opportunity to live his fantasies, but the pang he had felt earlier returned in full force, reminding him that this would likely be his one and only night with the legendary Arthur Kirkland.

In the end, he said nothing and merely opted to curl up on his side next to the older boy, who also rolled over and allowed Alfred to spoon him. Alfred quickly fell asleep with his arm securely around Arthur's waist, hoping that the snow would still be on his side come morning.


End file.
